


it's just a foot massage

by coupe_de_foudre



Series: Flufftober 2020 [7]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, Flufftober, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coupe_de_foudre/pseuds/coupe_de_foudre
Summary: “You're the only one I trust to do this.” Runner practically moaned out, dropping onto his elbows as he stared up at the stars.
Relationships: Wilbur "Runner" Conley/Robert Leckie
Series: Flufftober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952335
Kudos: 9





	it's just a foot massage

**Author's Note:**

> another little fluffy drabble for flufftober! I've never written for these two but I adore them so I hope it isn't too bad

“You're the only one I trust to do this.” Runner practically moaned out, dropping onto his elbows as he stared up at the stars. It was dark, not even the usual explosions illuminating the night's sky with an unsettlingly soft orange glow. Only blackness, a never ending void to a place unknown.

Leckie shook his head, increasing the pressure of his thumbs and swelling with on odd sense of pride when it drew another moan from the man in front of him. “It's a foot massage, Bud.”

Runner bent his head, sending him an exasperated look that Leckie could still somehow make out without any light. “Exactly.” He tisked, puffing out a breath of hot air. “You think I'd let Hoosier anywhere near my feet?”

Leckie wrinkled his nose, despite continuing his work on the soles of Runner's feet - mud-stained, unwashed and sore from hours upon hours of walking. “I don't think he'd want to.” He teased, smoothing his thumb over a fresh cut along the man's heel. Runner hissed. “Don't know why I am.”

Runner wiggled his toes, wide grin lighting up a fire in Leckie's chest. “'Cause you love my feet.” 

“Mhmm,” he rolled his eyes, kneading out a knot in the muscle below Runner's toes. “Sure.”

There wasn't a reply for a while and Leckie found himself in a comfortable silence again, now used to the once tense atmosphere of the jungle during the night; men huddled close together, keeping watch and sharing conversations, the quiet rustle of cots and leaves drifting through the breeze. Night was the unknown, unable to see the enemy, constantly on edge. But night was also the peace, intimate moments with your friends, lingering touches not dared to be spoken about under the harsh reality of daylight.

Night was now. Holding another man's foot in his hands and offering him relaxation in a way he'd only ever known a man and a woman share, muffled laughter and soft smiles, gentle teases and that look that Runner was sending him now...want and need and uncertainty all bundled into one expression.

“What?” He asked, voice hoarse from his previous silence.

Runner pushed himself further up onto his elbows, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as he let his guard down – let himself be vulnerable – for once. When he spoke, it was but a fleeting whisper in the night, only meant for his ears. “Come here.” 

Leckie saw, rather than heard, the words anyway and was already dropping Runner's foot in favour of crawling over his lower body before the end of his sentence. He planted strong hands at either side of Runner's head as Runner lowered himself back onto the ground, their eyes never leaving each other's.

The warmth from Runner's body radiated against him, enticing him closer despite the heat of the island. Leckie followed, slotting himself into the crevice of Runner's body and waiting. For what? 

He's not sure.

Until Runner makes an indignant sound, a whine in the back of his throat, and tilts his head upwards to brush their lips together in a kiss. It's short, a barely there press of mouths, but it seems to snap something inside of Leckie and he sighs deeply (since when had he been holding his breath?), parting his lips and letting out a broken moan when he feels the hot slide of a tongue along his own.

It's messy, uncoordinated and rushed; they're only just discovering this side of each other and they're not thinking about those romantic stories of innocent kisses on first dates. They're lying in a foxhole, disguised under the foreign night's sky from their friends, dirty and touch-starved. This new feeling, this sweet give and take, fingers dug into his curls, it's addictive and exciting and he wants more. Never wants it to stop.

But, of course, it has too. They pull apart for air, a trail of spit connecting their lips that neither of them has the energy to wipe away. Leckie sighs, relaxes his body over Runner's because he knows the man can take the weight, and drops his head to his chest.

There's a chuckle, the vibrations wobbling his head, and fingers card through his undoubtedly disgusting hair. “That was...”

“Great.” Leckie finished, twisting to blink up at Runner's blissful face and smiling. 

Runner smiled back, eyelids heavy, the epitome of relaxed. “Yeah.”

“Get some sleep.” He insisted after a moment, forcing himself up to plant a wet kiss to Runner's nose. He got a slap on the cheek in return, but the laugh that bubbled from Runner's throat made it worth it.

“You sure?”

He nodded, repositioning himself so that he could lean against the dirt built up around them, allowing Runner to settle himself beside him. “You could do with a rest. I'll take first watch.”

He got a small nod in response, Runner's lips quirking up into a sweeter smile as he decided to use Leckie's lap as a makeshift pillow, exhaling deeply and twisting to tuck his face against his stomach. Leckie smiled to himself, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Within minutes, Runner was asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading <3


End file.
